


Lie in (with me)

by The_Readers_Muse



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Boners, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Pre-Zombie Apocalypse, Religion, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9204392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Readers_Muse/pseuds/The_Readers_Muse
Summary: Growing up, Sundays had been hell.And yes, he did mean that in a literal sense.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Art/Fic colaberation with @madwomanlexie](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/253124) by madwomanlexie. 
  * Inspired by [Art/Fic colaberation with @madwomanlexie](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/253124) by madwomanlexie. 



> Disclaimer: I don't own AMC’s “The Walking Dead.” Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.
> 
> Authors Note #1: This is the written part of a compilation piece between myself and @madwomanlexie on tumblr. We were chatting and decided the world needed more Aaric. We decided to go in together, we exchanged prompts and decided to on: “Lazy Sunday.” She drew a piece, and I wrote a short fic to match it. Be sure to check out her amazing art on tumblr.
> 
> Warnings: discussion of religion, homophobia, fluff, romance.

Growing up, Sundays had been hell.

And yes, he did mean that in a literal sense.

It'd involved getting dragged out of bed as his mom forced a comb through his hair and his dad grumbled through a quick - and usually nickless - shave. Sitting bored in a pew in a suit that seemed eternally too big or too small as the preacher spoke of damnation and sin. Stuck with the realization that as early as he could remember the plush curves and sweet smelling hair of the girls at school had never done anything for him. Not the way he was told they should've anyway.

He'd managed to bury it for a long time. But eventually the truth got too loud for him to ignore. Worse, his parents and friends started asking questions and making jokes he just didn't have the heart to go along with anymore.

It'd been a tough lesson to internalize when the man that'd baptized you and spoke to you kindly every day after service also talked about how God's love was violent and limitless. Unless you were, _well,_ you know.

He spent every Sunday until he turned sixteen in that pew listening to a man preach hate in the form of a sermon. Watching as his mother and father nodded at the close of every sentence and offered breathy _amen's_ like every word was anointed in holy water no one seemed to care was poisoned.

Since he'd moved out from under his parents roof however, he'd chosen to honor Sundays his own way. _By sleeping in._ Which was admittedly a hard tradition to stick to when one considered the fact that he had a _fucking rooster_ for a boyfriend.

By the time he and Eric met he was already set in his ways. Sundays were for sleeping. It was a habit that was practically written in stone as far as he was concerned. Only, of course, Eric never seemed to get the memo. Always bouncing and alive at eight am no matter when or where. Bullying him out of bed to see a sunrise or to just sit together awake and warm under the covers. Sometimes it was breakfast in bed, where he had a mug of coffee burning the tips of his fingers while Eric muttered about the stock market and the news headlines as he scrolled through the notifications on his tablet. Other times it was watching Eric zoom around in his boxers and bare feet. Tossing wrinkled t-shirts here and there to find his favorite. Dragging him out of their apartment before he'd had a chance to take a piss and hiking to the half-way point of some mountain he swore hadn't been there yesterday, just to get ahead of the usual morning crowds.

Only today- _today_ he was ready for him.

"No," he said firmly. Flopping on top of him the moment he stirred. Rolling them in the sheets until Eric's limbs were half mummified and hopelessly tangled and he was shivering as the cooler air of the bedroom nipped across bed-warmed skin.

"No?" Eric repeated, half laughing and already disgustingly awake. "But-"

"No buts," he interrupted, burying his face into the sweaty crease where freckled shoulder met equally freckled neck. Breathing in the familiar smell that never failed to settle him deep down to his bones. Taking a perverse sort of pleasure out of knowing that he was slowly squashing Eric into the mattress. "Just sleep."

There was a pause, comfortable and sleepy thick before-

"What about both?"

He raised his head, blinking owlishly as Eric grinned hugely. Stomach growingly hopefully, but ultimately completely eclipsed by the prodding bulge forming just south of the border. Nudging insistently into his right thigh from where he was splayed on top of him.

Well, now he was _definitely_ awake.


End file.
